Aprés Vie
by meganphntmgrl
Summary: Vignettes starring Erik, our masked and spankingly dead hero, the charming and lovely yours truly, Richard III, and Oscar Wilde. No Sueism, no romance, no MeganErik pairings, just insanity. Refreshing, isn't it?
1. Never Leave Home Without Your Oscar

_(A/N: Be aware that the story you are about to so dauntlessly embark on features mild OOC-ness, historical figures, self-insertion, and Barry Manilow. _

_A special thanks to the Duchess of Inkling, whose "knickerspoilingly exciting" Lucius Malfoy series inspired this. Duchess, if you read this, please remember that imitation is the highest form of flattery.)_

**Chapter One: Never Leave Home Without Your Oscar**

One morning, King Richard III, his wife Queen Anne, their son Ned, and Oscar Wilde were eating English muffins for breakfast with Megan. This was quite an accomplishment, as all of the aforementioned but Megan were blazingly dead.

"Why do they call these English muffins? They're not muffins, nor are they English," Megan remarked.

"Is your American cheese truly American?" Richard countered.

"America is the only country who might consider that cheese." Oscar proclaimed lightly.

At that moment, the very insane, very mask-wearing, and very dead Erik breezed through, carrying a suitcase.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Anne.

"I'm leaving," said Erik.

"Oh?" said Richard.

"Yes, I'm abandoning all this silliness and traveling the world, as I did in my youth." Erik announced grandly.

"Oh, I doubt you were ever young," Megan teased.

"I'm tired of the lot of you. Richard's a dull little nerd, Anne fawns over him and their brat, and Megan is constantly trying to sexually assault me with her eyelashes."

Richard's eyes instantly fogged over as he tried to work out the mechanics of that last statement.

Oscar cleared his throat and gave Erik a pointed look.

"What is it, Wilde?" demanded Erik.

"I'm waiting for my mention." said Oscar.

"Of course not, my dear friend. You're coming too!"

"What?" Oscar exclaimed.

"You are still delightful company in my opinion. You shall accompany me on my travels."

Erik jerked his head toward the door. Oscar didn't move, so Erik swooped down, grabbed Oscar by the cravat, and began dragging the famous wit toward the door.

"Goodbye and good luck!" Erik announced, then disappeared through the door with Oscar in tow.

"Oh, he'll be back." Megan said confidently. "Last night, I stole his iPod."

She handed Richard the beloved device, and he began thumbing through the playlist.

"Hum," said Richard. "He certainly does enjoy his Barry Manilow."

"And HOW!" said Megan.


	2. Erik the Fightin' Time Commando

**Chapter Two: Erik the Fightin' Time Commando!**

"I shall finally do a good deed for all of humanity!" Erik announced. "Then maybe you'll all get off my back."

"What do you have planned, Professor?" Megan asked sarcastically.

"I presently shall travel back in time and KILL ADOLF HITLER, thereby saving millions of lives!"

From nowhere, a fanfare sounded.

"That's a pretty lofty goal," said Megan in her mildest voice.

"Bid me farewell, young phan." Erik continued obliviously.

"Um, farewell. . ." said Megan

"EAT THIS!" Erik shouted, and he swooped away dramatically to Megan's garage.

"What does he think he'll find down there?" Richard asked curiously.

"I'm not sure," said Megan, "but if he's looking for Nazis, he'll probably be disappointed. We did just clean the place last week."

A few hours later, Megan and Richard were playing pachisi when Erik entered, looking defeated.

"Aw, poor baby, what's the matter?" Megan asked in a wheedling voice.

"YOU THREW OUT YOUR FLUX CAPACITOR!" Erik shouted.

"If you really want to help humanity, you could get me a glass of wine." said Richard.


	3. What Most of America Wants to Do

**Chapter Three: Erik Does What Most of America Wants To Do**

"There's no such thing as a chemical imbalance," Tom Cruise sighed as he reclined against Megan's couch.

"Hey!" he shouted suddenly. "I'm Tom Cruise! Couches ain't fer sittin', they's fer jumpin'!"

Tom Cruise began wildly jumping up and down on Megan's sofa, which had been booby-trapped by Erik to open onto a subterranean vat.

Megan and Erik stood in awe of the block of carbonite containing the world's former biggest movie star.

"Well, now what?" said Megan.

"Get Planet Hollywood on the line," said Erik, dollar signs materializing in his eyes.


	4. Suspended Animation of a Salesman

**Chapter Four: Deathlike Suspended Animation of a Salesman.**

Erik, our dashing, masked and spankingly dead hero, rose to answer the door.

"Would you like purchase our fine Vac-o-Matic cleaning system?" asked a salesman.

"Actually, no," said Erik, and the traveling visitor plummeted through the porch and into a vat of carbonite, where the freezing process could begin.

In his own chamber in the basement, Richard III had just finished dressing for the morning. He glanced at his own reflection long enough to pull a velvet cap over his jaw-length black hair when Erik knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Richard.

Erik entered, head held aloft. Richard knew that the masked man was just trying to emphasize the fact that he himself stood just a few inches short of seven feet while the King barely scraped 5'8".

"What do you want?" Richard demanded.

"You've complained for weeks now about how this isn't like home, so I've been- ah- building something for you."

Richard looked up suspiciously. "Is this like when you tried to get me addicted to Vicodin?"

"Of course not!" said Erik. "Look- come with me."

Erik led Richard down a previously nonexistent staircase that burrowed ever deeper into the basement of Megan's house, finally arriving in a glorious underground chamber furnished with the free-standing, frozen forms of Tom Cruise and every unwanted that had shown up in the house lately. They had been painted gold, which complimented the rosy marble.

"Just like home, huh?" Erik asked with a smile.

"No," Richard said, still awed by the opulence around him.

"What?" Erik exclaimed. "Isn't this just like Florence at the height of the Renaissance?"

"How should I know? I never lived there!"

"Oh. So you're not Lorenzo de Medici?"

Richard couldn't believe Erik had been under this impression for that long.

"Erik," he explained gently, "I'm _English._"

"Oh! Good!" said Erik, heading toward the door. "In that case, I hope you enjoy the fully equipped potions lab. Have fun, Severus!"

Richard stared at the doorway, one eyebrow slightly raised. _Severus?_

"It must be the hair," he deadpanned.


	5. Inspiration Hits Like A Large Rock

**Chapter Five: Inspiration Hits Like A Large and Irregular Rock**

Once upon a time in the past, which is wavy and positioned slightly to your left, the gang was sitting around doing whatever it is they do.

"Curious," said Richard, leaning in toward the computer.

"What's curious?" said Erik, curiously.

"It's amazing!" Richard murmured. "According to what I'm seeing here, you could actually produce more artistic content in a story with very short, unrelated chapters than if you tried to produce a full-length novel!"

Megan sat up as straight as if she had been electrocuted.

"What did you just say?" she whispered.

"Look at this."

Richard pulled up a window labeled _The Pureblooded Everyday Antics of Lucius Malfoy_.

"Look at this!" Richard exclaimed. "They have nothing to do with each other, yet they're damn funny!"

Stars had appeared in Megan's eyes.

"What are you looking like that for?" said Richard.

"Don't you see, Richard? Sweet Richard, glorious Richard…"

Megan suddenly seized Richard by the shoulders and began gesturing grandly.

"STEP ONE! We write the dumbest crap ever written! STEP TWO! We put it on the internet- there are a lot of fangirls out there! And before you can say STEP THREE, we've got two million fangirls!"

"Two?" said Richard.

"Yeah, a million for Erik and a million for you! You bloody little genius!"

"Wait, hasn't this been done already?" Erik wondered aloud.

"But what happens if it doesn't work?"

"We get targeted as the worst story ever put on the Internet."

Richard shook his head. "It'll never work…"

"Oh, ye of little _faith!_" Megan chided.

She climbed on top of the desk and spread her arms, singing:

"What did Lewis say to Clark  
When everything looked bleak?  
What did Sir Edmund say to Tenzing  
As they struggled toward Everest's peak?  
What did Washington say to his troops  
As they crossed the Delaware  
I'm sure you're well aware..."

Megan jumped down again, beaming at Richard.

"What did they say?" said Richard.

Megan took a deep breath. "WE CAN-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" said Erik. "I _knew _taking Megan to _The Producers_ was a bad idea!"

Megan and Richard looked at one another, chastised.

"I mean, we can do it." said Megan.


	6. Aw, Snap!

**Chapter Six: Aw, Snap!**

"Megan, dear, we're sorry," said Richard, "but you've been in this a little too much lately."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Megan demanded.

"Scram!" said Erik.

Megan shrugged and went upstairs.

"Well, now what?" said Erik.

"We could play cards," suggested Richard.

"Like that'll make an entertaining vignette," Erik scoffed.

At that moment, a man with greasy black hair and a large nose came stalking in from the next room.

"Oh, sorry," said Erik, pointing at the title. "This chapter is called _Aw, Snap!_, not 'oh, Snape'."

"Dammit," said Snape.


	7. Revenge! Revenge!

(Author's Note: Dedicated to my biggest fan so far, the lovely Diana-Lupin.)

**Chapter Seven: Revenge! Revenge!**

One morning, Richard was out behind Megan's house, cutting a rose to give to Anne, when he pricked his thumb on a thorn.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Richard. He dropped the shears and brought the thumb to his mouth to ease the pain.

Unfortunately, Erik glanced out the window in time to see this. He stamped his foot as he threw open the window and stuck his head out into the unaccustomed sunlight.

"SIRRAH!" shouted Erik. "DO YOU BITE YOUR THUMB AT ME?"

Richard's eyes narrowed as he lowered his hand.

"What?"

"I said, DO YOU BITE YOUR THUMB AT ME?"

Richard thought about this.

"I did bite my thumb, but I didn't bite it at you," he explained.

"And what proof do I have of that?" challenged Erik.

"Look, I was cutting a rose, I pricked my finger, and I sucked out the extra blood!"

Erik drew the drapes over the window and soliloquized to nobody in particular.

"He insults me! I shall not bear it! I shall devise brave punishments for him! TO ARMS!"

Erik dashed out to his underground chamber when Diana-Lupin stumbled in. Erik paused and turned away.

"This place is full of things," he muttered. "I'll have to show her the way."

He stepped out into Diana's line of sight. She started violently.

"Hullo, Mr. Phantom!" said Diana.

"Hullo!" said Erik.

"What's up?"

Erik brought her conspiratorially close.

"I am subject to a tyrant!" he hissed. "This was MY territory before he closed in!"

"Then we shall have to get him," said Diana, gravely.

"Exactly! We overthrow the Richard!"

"Yes! Overthrow the Richard!"

"And then I'll have Megan's fan worship all to myself!"

They nodded triumphantly. A strange, percussive sound filled the air.

"What was that?" Diana gasped.

"This place is full of sounds and strange noises twangling at all hours of the day. Fanfic has made it that way. But I enjoy it. It's my music."

"This whole scenario was my idea!" said William Shakespeare.

"Shut it, you," said the omnipotent author.

They seized swords from a previously nonexistent rack on the wall and rushed back out into the sunlight, Erik throwing up his hood and putting on his gloves as he ran in order to protect his fragile skin.

Richard, meanwhile, had gone back inside to see what was going on on Animal Planet. The Purina Dog Challenge was just starting when Erik rushed in, Diana at his side, both of them carrying swords.

"You dare insult the House of Erik?" the tall, cloaked figure challenged. "This shall be thy undoing!"

"Oh, bloody hell," said Richard, reaching offscreen for a rapier.

The fight was fast and hard and probably comparable to the climactic lightsaber battle in Episode I, except Richard soon wore Erik down. It ended with Richard standing over him, rapier at Erik's throat.

"I really thought you'd do better than Gerard Butler!" said Richard. "Get up."

Erik rose up again.

"So be it! Now let it be war upon- _you!_ Again!"

He stormed away. Diana-Lupin looked expectantly at Richard.

"Don't look at me like that," said Richard. "I just work here."


	8. Wait, What?

**Chapter Eight: Wait, What?'**

_I wonder if Erik can read minds,_ Richard pondered to himself.

"Of course I can't, Gloucester, be reasonable!" snapped Erik, as though Richard had asked him something truly pointless.


	9. Erik Is A Straight Up G

(A/N: Erik belongs to himself. Richard belongs to the annals of history. I tell people I belong to Erik. "Lazy Sunday" belongs to Andy Samburg and Chris Parnell. Royal Jelly Donuts really exists and belongs to that nice little family who run the place. If you're ever in Vallejo, California, check them out.)

**Chapter Nine: Erik Is A Straight Up G**

The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and Erik lay in darkness in his coffin, feeling tired of it all.

"Blah," said Erik. (The coffin must finally be getting to him.)

He sat up with a stretch and knocked off the headphones that had mysteriously appeared on his head. As he did so, a thumping hip-hop bass line began from somewhere, and without any warning, Erik blurted:

"Lazy Sunday! Wake up in the late afternoon! Call up Richard just to see how he's doin'!"

Erik grabbed the phone and shouted into it without even dialing: "Hello! What up, Rich?"

To his surprise, Richard's voice rapped back, "Hey Erik, what's crackin'?"

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"TETHERBALL!"

"Then it's happenin'!"

Erik slammed down the receiver aggressively and glanced out the window at the Royal Jelly Donuts store across the street, suddenly overcome by an urge to shout, "I'm the Phantom (what?) of the Opera! Yes, I'm the Phantom (what?) of the Opera! Cause I'm the Phantom (what) of the Opera!"

Upstairs, Richard was shaking with laughter.

"I can't believe I helped you do this," he sighed at Megan.

"That's what happens if you play subliminal recordings of 'Lazy Sunday' in a man's ear all night," Megan replied.


	10. Feelin' Kinda Emo

(A/N: I am totally aware of how dated this will seem in a few months, but laugh anyway. Also, I am increasingly picturing Michael Cerveris as Erik, so do with that as you will.)

**Chapter Ten: Feelin' Kinda Emo**

The gang was sitting in a booth at Denny's, looking over a printout of movie times Megan obtained from Fandango ahead of time.

**(Product placement.)**

"I'll admit, I am curious about _Brokeback Mountain_," said Anne.

"I don't think so," said Megan.

"Why, because they're-"

"No, it has nothing to do with that!" said Megan. "It's because it's a romance lacking serious disfigurement, singing, or traumatic disasters that kill thousands of people, and a Western to boot. I don't do Westerns."

"Well then," Richard cut in, taking the paper, "_Fun with Dick and Jane _is still playing-"

"Seen it," said everyone else.

"Okay." said Richard, sounding chastised. "I personally want to see _Narnia, _but if you lot-"

"This is pointless," Erik said darkly. "We're sitting here, trifling over these mass-produced monsters in hope that maybe for one second we'll forget who we are! I've been trying to do that for years…"

"How is it that your corner of the table is so much darker?" Richard wondered aloud.

"It's never- going- to- change!" Erik shouted, thumping his fist on the table. "All through my life and even afterward, I suckle heedlessly on the teat of escapism. Knock-knock, who's there? ERIK! Open up, please, or I'll freeze out here!"

He sobbed a little and put his face in his hands.

"If you want to see _Hoodwinked_, Erik, you should have just said so." said Richard.


	11. Disorganized Crime

**Chapter Eleven: Disorganized Crime**

It was night. The streets glowed like honey in the rain as a young woman made her way down the street. Suddenly a man in a ski mask reached out from nowhere and scooped her into the alley.

"Don't scream, dear, or it'll be the worse for you," said the man, in a flat voice peppered with a heavy Yorkshire accent. He didn't sound particularly threatening, to be honest. She figured that she'd be released without much trouble if she'd cooperate.

"Come on, like _that's_ gonna scare her," said a second voice, this one unquestionably female, as another figure in a ski-mask stepped out of the darkness.

The girl in the ski mask edged toward the captive, giggling maniacally and sing-songing, "We're gonna kill you, we're gonna kill you-"

"Oh, shut up," said the Yorkshireman, sounding tired of the whole thing.

"Can I go now?" the young woman asked weakly.

"No!" snapped the man. "You're our captive! We're desperate criminals! We're going to do nasty things to you!"

The young woman rolled her eyes. "Look, do you want my money or what?"

The man in the ski mask looked at his companion. "Do we?"

"I don't know!" the female mugger shrieked. "How should I know? I didn't plan this!"

The victim rolled her eyes and tried to get away, but the man held her fast.

"Come on," she wheedled. "I'm only planning to go home and order some Chinese food-"

"I love Chinese food!" said the female mugger.

"You're not going anywhere, missy," the man added, in a rather declamatory voice.

There was a moment of silence.

"I SAID, you're not going anywhere, missy!" the man repeated in a slightly louder voice.

A figure in a flowing cape came swinging down on the walls of the alley. With stunning grace, he threw a weighted fishing net down on the two muggers, released the young woman, and waited on the opposite wall, suspended upside down from a rope.

The young woman approached him, ready to kiss him-

Then she saw his mask, smiled politely, thanked him, and walked away.

As the woman disappeared, Erik spun down to the ground and pulled away the fishing net. Richard and Megan instantly pulled off their ski masks.

"What the hell was that? You were supposed to make her so grateful to see me-"

"What can I say? We're terrible criminals." said Richard.

Erik snarled and stormed away.


	12. Cleanup on Aisle Five, Part 1

**Chapter Twelve: Cleanup in Aisle Five, Part One**

Oscar Wilde was in the mood for some pistachio ice cream, so he went to the freezer to look for some.

Instead, he found a bag of frostbitten chicken wings, a box of novelty waffles, and a half-eaten carton of peach-raspberry frozen yogurt. Gingerly, he pried open the frozen yogurt.

"It's mauve," he observed. "How utterly dreary!"

"Erik!" Oscar called.

"Yes?" said Erik, turning around on the organ bench.

"Do you know what happened to the last of our pistachio ice cream?"

Erik shrugged. "Oh, I threw it out. It was spoiled."

"What? We only purchased it last week-"

"It had turned the most disgusting shade of green. . ."

It was moments like this that reminded people that Oscar was a very large and physically imposing man capable of rowing for eight. As he glared at Erik, who was a few inches taller but looked like a shrunken windlestraw next to the famous poet, his hands balled into big square fists.

But he was Oscar Wilde, so instead he only stared vaguely at nothing and tried to look like everything was fine.

"Erik," said Oscar, "pistachio ice cream is green by nature."

"Oh," said Erik. "Well, sorry about that. Why don't you try the peach-raspberry yogurt? Megan says it's quite good."

"It's mauve," said Oscar.

"What's wrong with that? If you'll eat putrid green-"

"Mauve is a dreadful color, Erik. It's what royal violet became after being abandoned to the middle classes. No, this yogurt you speak of is an utter failure of aesthetics."

Erik stared. His visible eyebrow had risen and deepened the creases in his forehead.

"But you'll eat the green stuff?"

Erik rolled his eyes and eased himself into his greatcoat. Honestly, it was amazing how often two men with such artistic temperaments managed to disagree as often as they did.

"Then I suppose you'll have to go to the store." he decided.

"And you'll have to come too." Oscar replied. "I refuse to face the banal unaccompanied."

About thirty minutes later, the crew was making a mass expedition to the Albertson's across the street, lists in hand.

"You look like Victor Von Doom," said Megan, glancing at Erik, who had swathed himself completely against the sun.

"One can't be too careful." said Erik. "Besides, if you really want to see someone overdressed for the occasion, look at Richard."

Megan took one look at Richard, who was wearing a long blue houppelande with purple accents, a matching feathered hat, and a heavy gold collar.

"What's your point? Richard always dresses like that."

Richard had been pretending not to listen, but he smiled softly to himself and added another slash to his side of the scoreboard in his head.

The security camera trained on the group as they entered the store.

"Ah, for the scents of muffins to sweep across the air again..." Oscar sighed nostalgically.

An older lady was leaning on a shopping cart and staring in a bemused sort of way.

"I'm Oscar Wilde. Here's my card."

Megan followed Richard off toward the cereal aisle.

"Could you help me find the Cheerios?" Richard asked her. "I really would rather not bend over for them."

"Okay," said Megan. "Hey, Richard?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to know your biker name?"

"My what?"

"Yeah, I put your name in a biker name generator. You're Pretty Boy Richard of the Popes of Hell motorcycle club."

"Oh, really?" Richard laughed. "And who were you?"

"Li'l Bitch of the Sons of Santa."

Richard, who disliked the idea of Megan knowing much about being a bitch, only raised an eyebrow.

"My Viking name is Ingibjorg Madgoat," the girl continued. "You were Rauðúlfr Oakengoat."

"Ah," said Richard.

"In Japan, my name would be Meganu Rerusefu."

"Uh-huh…"

"And you'd be Richirude Purantajinetsu."

"Really?" said Richard, starting to feel like fate was playing a very cruel game with him.

"If we were elves, we'd be Inwë of Nargothrond and Caranthir Tur-anion."

"Have you found the cereal yet?"

"Not yet!"

Richard sighed.

"If I was a pirate, I'd be Dirty Charity Rackham. I don't know what your name would be. But I like Dirty Charity. Awesome name for a pirate to have…

"Hey, why are you looking at me like that?"

Erik was strolling casually through the frozen foods when he felt someone grab him by the shoulder.

"What, Oscar?" he asked witheringly.

"You're going to have to come with us, sir," said the security guard.

Erik was shunted into the behind-the-scenes area and a tiny office.

"Sit down, sir," said the officer. "What's your name?"

"Erik Vachon"

"And tell us, what's with the outfit?"

"This is how I dress," said Erik.

"I don't think so. See, there's a thing on the books now, that if you come dressed like a terrorist, we'll treat you like one, and well, you're dressed like a terrorist. I hope you like small spaces, Sugar Plum Fairy."

"What?"

"That's your prison bitch name. I just generated it on the Internet."

**Will Erik escape from the security guard?**

**Will Megan ever stop with the names?**

**And what the hell is Oscar doing, anyway?  
All these and more will be answered in the next chapter of Aprés Vie!**


	13. Valentine's Day Lollapalooza!

**WE INTERRUPT "CLEANUP ON AISLE FIVE" TO BRING YOU:**

**Chapter Thirteen: Super Duper Valentine's Day Lollapalooza!**

"What are you doing?" Megan asked Richard.

"I caught a cupid," said Richard.

"LET GO OF ME," said Erik.

Megan eyed Erik's Cupid costume.

"Is this your revenge?" she asked Richard.

"Yeah, you could say that."

At that moment, Erik passed out.

**HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY FROM THE WHOLE "APRÈS VIE" POSSE!**

Erik: Did you just use the word 'posse'?

Megan: Huh. I think I did.


End file.
